


6 ways to say "I love you"

by reus123



Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: BMer acts as a voice of reason because she's literally the only one who isn't homicidal, Death, F/F, Guilt, Insanity, Organ Removal, SK goes insane, Very unhinged, murder-suicide babey!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26465146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reus123/pseuds/reus123
Summary: The Serial Killer and her victims have a nice chat.
Relationships: Serial Killer/Blackmailer (Town of Salem), Serial Killer/Consort (Town of Salem)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	6 ways to say "I love you"

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of went off at the end. It doesn't really make sense as a story but I'm posting it anyway. Enjoy :)

1\. A letter.   
Black ink on white paper, the envelope stamped with her signature wax seal. Stay quiet, she whispers, her voice rustling like paper. I know you, I know your secrets and I know how you look in the darkness with your hands red and your heart pounding, I know. You want to tell her that you love her, that she should join you, that the world is so cruel and angry and she is the only one who has ever understood, but she puts a finger to her lips and you find yourself breathless.

2\. A ring.   
Golden, shining, a polished band as pure as the summer skies. You know who this belonged to, you had her in your bed a few nights prior, you have the smell of her perfume even now, it lingers on your clothes and covers up the tang of blood. You know that she was like a sister to your dear admirer, you've seen the photographs, the smiles on her face. You can't bring yourself to care, not really.

3\. A knife.   
The blade sharp, the metal gleaming, it is as quick as her, it draws blood just as easily and it sings as it swipes through the air. You polish it well, until it reflects your own face, your red lipstick smeared across its surface. 

4\. A bullet.   
The shell carved with imprecise strokes, the metal buckling under the weight of her shaking hand. You can imagine her labouring under candlelight, her crumpled shirt stained crimson, her expression amused. In your mind's eye, she looks like you. She looks just like you. And you fall in love.

5\. A heart.   
It drips red and hot through your fingertips, reminding you of wax on paper, of flickering candlelight.

6\. An ending.  
She asks you why you did it. She asks you if you've ever felt this lonely before. It was just business, you say, but your teeth are clenched and your hands are shaking and the smell of her perfume makes you sick.

She says that she's seen you, her voice a broken record.

She's seen your secrets, she's seen you in the darkness where the blood coats your skin like moonlight.

She says that you looked beautiful, that you look perfect.

You ask her to shut up, you beg her for silence, and your voice turns to pleading when the bullet shell tinkles to the floor, the rough facsimile of a heart carved into its dented surface. She asks if you ever loved her, if you're capable of feeling love, if you loved the consort that only ever wanted a family, the consort that you killed, the same way you killed her, the same way you will kill all of them. She asks you if the burning in your chest is love. She asks in a voice so sweet that you can forget the way her fingers trembled as she dropped the capsule in your cup, the liquid inside swirling white and black and grey, spinning around you in this room where you clutch at the floorboards and her voice whispers by your ear.

"Did you love her?" Her eyes stare into yours, blue meeting red, the glassy sheen of her stare making shivers dance down your spine. 

_It was a few nights ago, when the moon hung heavy in the sky and her white dress rustled by your door, she was wearing a smile so bright and so worn, she was so tired, she looked so tired, and all you wanted to do was to help her, that's all you ever did, that's all you ever wanted, you gave her peace and this is your repayment, this is all the world has ever given you -_

"Do you love me?"

She sits across from you in your kitchen, the candle flickering between you. Her hands are steady on yours and her smile is so radiant so bright so beautiful. You lift your cup and she watches and the smell of almonds reminds you of her, the same way that the blood dripping through your fingers does, her still-beating heart clutched in your hands. 

You want to tell her that you're sorry, but your words fall flat and she's long gone by now. You lift the cup, feeling the warmth of her hands, seeing the smile on her face. 

"How inconvenient," she says, her neck dripping blood onto the floorboards, her white dress fluttering in the faint breeze from your window, "I liked this dress." Candlelight rings her face, a golden halo for your angel in white. Her ring glitters as she holds out a hand, beckoning, waiting. It is not forgiveness that flashes in her eyes, it is anger, all the fury of a woman scorned. She wants to save you, you realise, she knows and she hates you and she still wants to save you because -

"Did you know that she loved you?" 

You want to say that you didn't but the truth sticks in your throat. You've always known. The cup in your hand shakes and you want to tell her that she never fooled you, not even for a second. She looks at you one last time and you realise that you have never fooled her either, that this is the only ending where you both lose. You raise the cup to your lips and drink.


End file.
